


Late Nights/Early Mornings

by blitzturtles



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 20:24:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19325449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blitzturtles/pseuds/blitzturtles
Summary: Klaus wakes to a hiss of pain and a quiet curse. Both are all too familiar, which is why he simply rolls over and stretches his legs out before he sits up to get a good look at the one responsible. To Diego’s credit, he looks somewhat guilty for waking Klaus up at -- Klaus glances at their bedside alarm and rolls his eyes -- 3 in the morning.





	Late Nights/Early Mornings

Klaus wakes to a hiss of pain and a quiet curse. Both are all too familiar, which is why he simply rolls over and stretches his legs out before he sits up to get a good look at the one responsible. To Diego’s credit, he looks somewhat guilty for waking Klaus up at -- Klaus glances at their bedside alarm and rolls his eyes -- 3 in the morning. 

“Sorry,” Diego stammers. Exhaustion tends to do that. Pain, too, and, judging by the way that Diego’s moving, there’s a good bit of that going on.

Klaus slides out of bed and makes his way to Diego. He stops him when he starts to struggle to pull on the leather harness. “Just relax,” he whispers. He’s not irritated. Sleep hasn’t ever been much of a friend to him anyways, and helping Diego gives him the perfect opportunity to examine him for anything too serious.

Diego drops his arms back down to his sides and lets himself be manhandled without protest. There’s an occasional wince as Klaus works, but that’s largely due to the bruises underneath his clothes.

“You know,” Klaus starts while his fingers work, “I usually go for all the leather and the black and the mysterious thing, but why does it have to be such a pain in the ass?” He doesn’t expect an actual answer. If anything, he’s talking to distract them both. Diego from his pain, and himself from his worry. There’s a _lot_ of bruising, and it covers nearly all the colors possible. Some are massive, wrapping around Diego’s ribs in a way that makes Klaus fairly sure that there’s at least one fracture in there somewhere. 

“You need a catsuit. With a zipper. Built in harness that doesn’t interfere with the zipper. None of this buckle stuff,” Klaus doesn’t stop talking the whole while. Diego’s easy. Exhausted and achey, and that makes him pliable. Klaus could probably knock him over with a breath of air. There’s a good chance Diego wouldn’t get back up until tomorrow. Mattress be damned. 

“Hey,” the sudden alarm in Klaus’ voice makes Diego open his eyes. He hadn’t fully realized he’d closed them, but he blinks them tiredly now.

“You really can’t do that breath holdy thing to me right now,” Klaus says in a voice that’s barely above a whisper.

Diego looks puzzled for a moment, but he puts it together. He’d been holding his breath subconsciously to avoid aggravating his injured rib more than necessary. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Klaus manages a small smile, and it’s only partially forced. He kisses the corner of Diego’s mouth. “I’m almost done with these,” he tugs on the belt holding Diego’s pants tightly around his hips, “Then you can sit on the bed, and I’ll get your boots, okay?”

“M’hm.”

“Good. Now, what was I saying?” Klaus resumes his babbling.

Time passes in a blur for Diego until he’s being pushed backwards. His knees hit the bed, and he doesn’t bother restraining himself. The flop he does is graceless, and it jars his ribs in the worst way, but he’s finally lying down. Nothing else matters.

If it weren’t for Klaus, he’d sleep in his combat boots.

If it weren’t for Klaus, he’d sleep with his knives still attached, too, and that has never been a great idea.

Klaus nudges him gently when he finishes up. “C’mon, gotta move one more time.”

Diego groans, but he does as he’s told and scoots up the bed enough that his head is resting on a pillow. Whose, he doesn’t know, but that’s something for Klaus to deal with.

Klaus disappears for a moment, and, when he comes back, Diego finds himself holding out his hand instinctively. The sound of ibuprofen rattling in the bottle is his equivalent of Pavlov’s bell, and he pops the pills in his mouth, swallowing them dry without a second thought, though he appreciates the small glass of water that Klaus pushes into his hands next. He hands it back when he’s managed to drain it.

Klaus sets the cup on the bedside table. It’s something he can deal with tomorrow. Right now, all he wants to do is to curl up behind Diego, and that’s exactly what he does, with his arms wrapping around Diego’s waist. He buries his nose in Diego’s hair. His hand finds its way over Diego’s heart, resting there so that he can relax knowing that Diego’s still alive, regardless of whether or not his chest rises and falls.

It doesn’t take much for Diego to welcome sleep after that, and Klaus follows shortly thereafter.


End file.
